The Difference An Hour Makes
by jwmathias
Summary: Now that the future of Sports Night is no longer in limbo, Dan decides once and for all what to do about Rebecca.


**Sports Night**

**The Difference An Hour Makes**

Turning the page of the well-worn paperback with the thumb of the left hand in which it rested, while simultaneously pulling the corner off a grilled cheese sandwich with the right hand, Louise Mallard dropped dead.

Just as he knew she would. Just as she always did. Dan read the last few words of the story as he chewed his sandwich. Just as he always did, he 'hrmmphed' at the characters in the story who just _knew_ Louise Mallard had died from the shock, "of joy that kills". She'd died of shock, all right, but it wasn't joy that did her in. It was half past midnight on a Tuesday.

Dan put the book down on the kitchen table and took up the remains of his late night snack in both hands even as he leaned back and thought about the story. The Story of An Hour by Kate Chopin. It wasn't quite three pages long but it said more in those brief pages than most full-length books he'd read in a long time.

He chuckled a bit remembering how shocked his classmates had been in college when the professor asked him what he thought the story meant and he actually got it. Okay, so he was the only straight guy in the "Literature From A Feminist Perspective" class, and maybe he had taken the class as much to meet girls as to fulfill a Humanities elective requirement, but that didn't automatically make him shallow. Well, he was shallow, but there were other reasons for that, being nineteen at the time chief among them.

Louise may have been a nineteenth-century housewife but she wasn't so different from him. Or anyone else he knew. People spend their lives playing the roles they were expected to play, to get by without being thought of as more of a freak or a reject than they were. Sometimes they get a chance to leave it behind. Sometimes it kills them.

Those three brief pages. Damn, what Chopin couldn't do with just three pages.

The more he pondered those three pages the more he began to realize how much Louise Mallard's life with her husband Brently paralleled his own relationship with Rebecca.

He had been immediately taken with Rebecca, besotted even. Maybe it was her initial disinterest and the thrill of the chase. If he was to be perfectly honest with himself, it was. Of course, she was cute and funny and sweet, but if she would have said 'yes' the first time he asked her out, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have lost interest after a few dates. Instead he found himself in love with her, though again, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he was equally in love with the idea of being in love. He was tired of being alone.

Goddam therapy. As much as it helped him with some things it sure made others more difficult. There is something to be said for self-delusion.

When he learned that Rebecca had lied to him, that she was actually still married albeit separated, it was crushing. What he'd built up in his mind as the perfect relationship with the perfect woman, wasn't. She was fucking _married_. He would admit to being an ass where women were concerned far too many times but that was one line he had never and never would have knowingly crossed.

But letting her go, as angry as he was with her and as right as he knew it was, left a gaping hole in the pit of his stomach. He consoled himself by telling himself, that when the divorce went through finally, he could go back and they could pick up again and all would be good again.

Instead she went back into counseling with her husband and he ended up spirally downward into the ugliest depression he'd had in long time. Not the worst ever, but it ranked right up there in the Top 5. He couldn't even blame her for it, even though she did deserve some blame – not for the depression but for not being honest with him and for stringing him along. He defended her, to Casey, to Abby, to himself when she didn't really deserve it.

So, when she withdrew her divorce petition and went back to Steve full-time, it was as crushing as the news of Brently's death was to Louise. Immediate and as physically painful as it was emotionally. He'd been lost over what he would do without her. He needed her. He depended on her for his sanity.

It didn't help matters any that CSC was going to Hell in a handbasket and no one even knew if they would have a job the next day – day after day after month after month.

But in walked Quo Vadimus, bought CSC, and pledged to keep Sports Night on the air. No one knew for sure what it meant yet to be part of Quo Vadimus or how Sports Night would change or well, a lot of things were still in the air. Now, though, there was hope. There was light to go toward.

And Rebecca was back, really and truly divorced from Steve and wanting him back. He'd won. He'd beaten the evil husband and won the girl. He'd kept the job he loved, when he was in a condition to love anyone or anything. And there were more days like that, more frequently, than there had been for a long time.

It was a new beginning, a chance to start over and do it right this time. That's why he'd retrieved the remnants of the slip of paper with Rebecca's new phone number from the trash where he'd thrown it when there was no light at the end of the tunnel. That is why he had called her the very next day and asked her out.

Just like Louise Mallard. From the depths of sincere despair there emerged a chance at a new life. And just like Louise Mallard he'd jumped for it without looking back. He was not going to waste the opportunity he had been given. Not this time.

A harsh, loud buzz sounded from the phone on the wall interrupting his thoughts. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, which revealed it to be 1:39 am, Dan got up and pressed the intercom button on the phone. The tiny screen flickered to life to show him who was ringing his doorbell downstairs this late. It was Rebecca.

"Hello," he said simply.

"Hi. Want company? I have Chinese food and condoms," she replied cheerfully.

Rebecca was a little surprised but not very concerned when Dan didn't answer right away. He probably wasn't expecting her to say that and it tickled her when she was able to take his words away for a minute. It happened so rarely.

"Let me just put some pants on and I'll be right down."

"You don't have to on my account. Just buzz me up."

"I'll be down in a second."

* * *

It was actually closer to five minutes when he appeared looking damn sexy, Rebecca thought, in jeans, an old t-shirt, and that ratty plaid flannel robe he'd had since college hanging open and softly billowing behind him as he crossed the lobby from the elevator opposite the foyer where she waited. He was barefoot and talking on his cell phone.

Waving briefly to Rebecca to acknowledge her presence, Dan stopped and looked around the small room when he got to the modest, but handsome wooden desk where his overnight doorman usually could be found. He spotted him, coming out of the restroom a short distance away.

"Good evening, Mr. Rydell," the older gent called out. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Thank-you," Dan said into the phone and snapped it shut.

Rebecca watched as Dan spoke briefly with the man, unable to hear the conversation but knowing that Dan was surely offering the older man an eggroll from their dinner. He always did. He was always thinking of others in small ways like that. Rebecca had even purchased an extra one for the man, knowing Dan would do it and knowing, too, the man preferred the vegetarian ones.

Dan clapped the man on the shoulder and opened the inner door, the secure door, that separated the public from the private living space of the building's occupants until they were buzzed in, but instead of holding it open for her, he came through and let it close behind him.

"Hi," she said coyly. She was about to go up on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek but Dan maneuvered away just enough to make it impossible as he took the bag of take out from her.

"Thanks, that was getting heavy." Dan set the bag down on the bench that lined the short wall of the foyer instead of just shifting it to one hand as he unlocked the security door with the other as Rebecca had expected him to do.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a $20 bill and handed it to her. "Here."

"You don't have to pay me for dinner. It's nothing."

"It's cab fare," Dan stated.

"What?"

"There's more than enough to get you home. Don't worry about paying me back or returning the change or anything. Just keep it. They should be here in just a few minutes. Gus will walk you out and make sure you get in all right."

"You don't want me to stay?"

"No." He spoke softly but firmly.

"Oh," Rebecca wasn't sure what to make of this turn of events. But, now that she looked a little closer, he did look kind of tired. "We'll make a quiet night of it, a little something to eat and then just cuddle up and go to sleep."

"No," he repeated just as softly and shaking his head to emphasize his words. "Rebecca, I -- "

"What?" She tried to place her hand on his cheek but he maneuvered away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dan said and surprised himself when he realized he was telling the truth for a change. "I, just – We, just – Have you ever read Kate Chopin?"

"Never heard of her. What sport does she play?"

"None. She was – never mind." Dan ran his hands over his closely cropped hair, the hair his father said made him look gay. He pushed that aside. This wasn't about his father. It was about him and Rebecca.

Again Rebecca tried to touch his face, again he moved away.

"Rebecca, I never should have called you. I should have just let you stay gone."

"Danny -- "

"I'm sorry if that came out harsh or mean. I don't want to be. But I don't want to see you anymore either. It's too hard and, I just don't have it in me anymore."

"You're breaking up with me? After everything we been through?" How could he be doing this to her now?

"I have to."

"Is there someone else? Who is she? Is it a _he_?" she couldn't help herself. She was getting angry. First Steve and now Danny, too? Danny was not supposed to do this. Danny was supposed to be there for her. He promised and she believed him.

"There's no one else."

"Really?" She wanted to believe him but she wasn't sure she did.

"Yes, really. We had some great times, we did. And I thank you for every one of them and I hope you find someone who can give you many, many more. I really, sincerely do, but it won't be me. I can't do it."

"Why? All of the sudden, out of the blue you want to break up with me? After we've gotten back together and started to put it all back together again? That's it? It's over?"

"I have to, Rebecca," he repeated, still in that same soft but firm voice that was beginning to really get on Rebecca's nerves.

"But, why?" she practically screamed. This didn't make sense. It didn't make sense at all.

He didn't answer her right away. She watched his face as he searched for the right words. It wasn't easy for him, she could see that. He had one of those faces that were easy to read, when he wasn't carefully keeping it from showing anything. When he did speak, it wasn't any words she would have expected.

"I have a mirror."

"And?" What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"In the end it's all anybody's got. It's _everything_. Good-bye, Rebecca."

Dan unlocked the door and passed through. He gave Gus, the doorman, a wave as he approached the elevator, but he never looked back.

End

28 Dec 2005

Authors Notes:

Read: The Story Of An Hour by Kate Chopin in full online, by entering the story's title an author into your favorite search engine. Sorry, does not allow the inclusion of links.


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